


Metanoia

by Aria_i_Adagio



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Be Careful What You Wish For, Gen, One Shot, Pre Canon, magical rituals gone horribly wrong, referenced Lucio/Val
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_i_Adagio/pseuds/Aria_i_Adagio
Summary: The keening hum comes from Valerius running his finger around the top of a crystal wine glass.  Of course.  That is the only reasonable origin.  And when he lifts his finger, it will stop, as is only proper and right.  It won't continue to drown out the speech of the senior member of the palace staff speaking to him.  He is in control.  Val almost laughs at the absurdity.  Hadn’t his nurse always thought he to be careful what he wished for.  Should have listened to her more.His hand stills.  The ringing continues.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Metanoia

The keening hum comes from Valerius running his finger around the top of a crystal wine glass. Of course. That is the only reasonable origin. And when he lifts his finger, it will stop, as is only proper and right. It won't continue to drown out the speech of the senior member of the palace staff speaking to him. He is in control. Val almost laughs at the absurdity. Hadn’t his nurse always thought he to be careful what he wished for. Should have listened to her more.

His hand stills. The ringing continues.

_ God damn it. _ He pinches the bridge of his nose, closes his eyes as he does, and then remembers why that is a mistake. Fire and smoke, and . . . No.  _ Silence, all of you. _

"I apologize, Chamberlain, but I'll need you to repeat yourself." He raises the wine glass to his lips, hoping another drink or two would steady him. It won’t. Nothing is going to steady him. Not now.

"Lord Consul, we've moved Her Excellency to her chambers, and she is being attended by the palace physician -"

"You let the Quaestor near her?" If she isn't dead already, it won't take Valdemar long to fix that. They'd been there, in that underground room, with that underhanded magician, and whatever arcane nonsense that Val was already having trouble recalling.  _ But not the fire... No. That was clear enough.  _

"No, my Lord, the head of research is occupied with other matters."

"Devorak, then?"

"My Lord -" The chamberlain rubs his hands together nervously. "You ordered Dr. Devorak arrested. For the Count's murder."

The hum in Valerius' head skips up a tone and back down _. The top of a narrow stair. Smoke and heat. Devorak elbowing him aside and running into the fire with a shout. Lucio . . . Oh! God! Stumbling out of the smoke into the hallway. Volta trying to beat out the flames that had caught on Val's in clothes and Vulgora shouting that Devorak had set the fire, burnt the poor count alive in his own bed. _

_ Take him.  _

"Yes, yes." Val flutters his fingers. "Who's with Nadia then?"

The Chamberlain falls silent then looks nonplussed. "I'm afraid I've forgotten his name, my Lord."

"Not the white haired witch?" That would actually be a bit of a relief. The witch's fondness for Nadia was roughly the only thing about him that Valerius would describe as genuine.

"Nothing has been seen of Master Asra since -" The Chamberlain wrings his hands again and sniffs hard before indecorously pulling a handkerchief from his sleeve. 

"Since the fire." Val finishes for him and glares.  _ If I can't have a complete come apart right now, you certainly don't get to. And I do want to come apart.  _ "So you've left Her Excellency in the care of a physician whose name you don't even know. Fetch Devorak back from wherever he's been stashed."

"Of course, my Lord, but is that wise?"

"Just bring him to her Excellency's chambers. I'll meet you there and threaten him myself." The humming in his head is growing intolerable. He finishes off the glass of wine and gathers his robes in one hand. They smell of smoke, and he is of half a mind to stop and change, set a decent example of how you should behave in court because Lu still seems to think that running around in blood and sweat and smoke stained garments is appropriate. Val halts and leans against the wall, caught by a sudden sob.  _ Lu. Shit. Lu _ . 

"You needn't tend to her, you know." The voice sounds familiar, but he can't quite place it. Low commanding. Authoritative.

"Of course I do. She's the ruler now - now that Lucio -"

"And what gives her - a foreigner who can barely stomach this city - the right of it? What happens if she simply never wakes?"

_ Chaos _ . Valerius wants to say, nothing but chaos. Prakra will never let the death of one of their daughters go without any investigation, even a daughter who had married a barbarian far beneath her without permission. Refusing them would be a provocation. And if invited, they were likely to just stay. But that's the long game. The voice meant in the short term.

"I rule Vesuvia."

"And wouldn't you be better for the city? You understand it. I could make it happen. Easy enough. To make sure her sleep ends in a way that favors you."

"I would be suspected." Val shivers. There are claws stroking his cheek. At least, he thinks so. 

"I can see to that as well. A distraction here, a misdirection there."

Val shakes his head.  _ Not this time.  _ He's broken with order before, taken matters into his own hands. Helped put a beautiful, blond barbarian on the throne, thinking - at least a little - to rule through him.  _ Not again. _ "No. Whoever, whatever you are, no." 

The claws pull his hair back, letting the length drag across his shoulder. "Such pretty hair, Consul." He should look back and see who dares touch him. The voice chuckles, almost as if the speaker heard his thought. "I'll leave the offer on the table, Val. You've time. Do you want her to wake or do you want to do what you were born for? Your move."

His hair falls back against his shoulder, almost a slap, and Val staggers forward, nearly falling to his knees. His hand moves rapidly, reflexively in front of him - touching forehead, shoulders, chest - and he means it, means it like he hasn't since he was fifteen and decided that the smells and bells and candles and glittering icons were thoroughly ridiculous, and that was most definitely sad, sweet wine and not the blood of God. Not that the gesture will help. He'll be in hell soon enough.  _ At least it'll be with Lucio. Maybe they’ll assign us the same demon. _

* * *

Devorak is a mess. But Devorak is always a mess. He's simply more of a mess right now. The guards still have him in handcuffs when they toss him into the antechamber of Nadia's room, and the bruises across his face suggest they've been none too gentle with him. None too gentle,  _ and _ some overzealous fool has already branded the back of his left hand. Valerius feels a stab of sympathy.

"Did you do it?"

"What?" The doctor sounds confused. "Do what? You were there? Weren't you? I think . . . It's all so . . ."

"Confused. I know." Val's memories are escaping him far faster than they should, dissipating into the air like smoke. The dining room seems distant, he remembers laughing aloud when an ornate golden chalice of bad wine was passed to him, but the rest is becoming fog. Except for the part he most wanted to forget: the outline of Lucio's body engulfed in flames. "Did you kill Lucio?"

The doctor's grey eyes meet his own. Valerius startles, backing away when he sees that one eye is brilliant red, then he stills himself. The plague doesn't spread through proximity. Were that the case, he would have caught it from sleeping most nights curled next to Lucio's feverish body the past few months.

"I don't, I think, um, I don't know . . ." 

That stammering hesitation and talking in circles again!  _ How had Lucio ever found it endearing? _ "You were fleeing his rooms."

Devorak tries to rub the back of his neck, handcuffs making the motion awkward, and flinches when he jars his burned left hand. He turns his hands over in front of him and stares at his palms before starting to laugh. "Sure. I did it. What's one more death?" The lean body doubles over shaking with what might be sobs or hysterics. "I killed Lucio. Tie me a noose or throw me a parade - I did it!"

"Oh, be quiet!" Val doesn't have time to figure out if Devorak is telling the truth or has simply gone mad. "Will you hurt Nadia?"

"Nadia?" The laughter ceases and the doctor's expression sobers. "No. Never. What's wrong?"

"She fell unconscious during the um . . ." It isn't just that Val can't find the word, he can't even find the image he wants.

"Yeah, yeah. She hasn't woken?"

"No."

"I won't hurt her, Valerius. I would never -"

Too familiar, addressing him without his title, but he'll let it pass. Given the circumstances, they both deserve a little grace. Valerius nods sternly to the guards. Whoever should be in charge, right now, he is. Or he would very much like to think that he is. They undo the cuffs and Devorak flexes his hands and wrists experimentally. No real damage then.

It doesn’t take the doctor long to see to Nadia - check her breathing and pulse, try to get a response through various means (apologizing the whole time, of course, you really could step on the man and he wouldn’t know whether to thank you or beg forgiveness), finally he forces her eyelids open and holds a lamps close directing the light into them. He seems a bit heartened, and holds a cup of water to her lips, nodding when she swallows the little bit he tips into her mouth.

“I don’t know what it is. Deeper than sleep, not as deep as well, dead.”

“You can’t wake her?”

“Seems I can’t.” He fusses over the bedclothes, rearranging and smoothing them around Nadia’s still form. “She, um, might, probably will, I hope that is, wake on her own in a few days. What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Bits and pieces . . . And fire. You?”

“The same.” And getting less with each moment that passes, even without wine to help.

“So, um, I killed Lucio?”

Valerius had hoped the doctor wouldn’t ask that question. “The rest of the court says you did.” 

“And you?” Devorak’s eyes are pleading. He hadn’t hated Lucio the way the magician did, or held him in contempt like Nadia. No, not at all. And Lucio always had a soft spot for the redhead. Much more than a passing fancy. Enough to bring out every bit of jealousy in Valerius’s being.

“You were there.” Valerius manages to keep the words even as they exit his mouth.

Devorak lowers his head, wild red curls falling over his eyes, and then he holds out both hands. “You probably should have them lock me back up then.”

Valerius looks around the room. Empty. Nadia’s maids had taken the opportunity to run off, whether to do something useful or just to gossip didn’t matter so much at the present. Valerius shoves past the doctor and opens the door. The guards both snap to attention, then stare at him in disbelief when he orders them to leave. He has to repeat himself.

“Listen, Devorak.” Valerius closes the door behind him. “Do you have a friend in the city who could get you out? Other than that damned white haired witch.”

“Asra?” Those usually soft eyes harden suddenly. “No, he . . . I mean, yes, I do.”

“Good.” Valerius rifles through Nadia’s closet grabbing the first hooded cloak that comes to hand. Deep royal blue. Would probably look quite fetching on Devorak, if now was the time for such things. More to the point, it won’t be too absurdly short on the doctor. Nadia was tall, and all her outfits were cut to account for the addition of heels. “I assume, you’ll be able to give me enough direction to get you to him.”

“Her. My um -”

“Don’t care and better if I don’t know, Devorak.” He shoves the cloak into the doctor’s hands before he can change his mind. “Put this on, and tell me which of the palace physicians you most trust so I can summon them for Nadia. Then we’re getting you out of the city.”

Val already regrets this. _All of it._

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, Julian had to get out of the palace somehow. Muriel can't do all the heavy lifting around here.
> 
> Thanks for reading! And forgive me any typos, grammatical errors, poor phraseology. I fear that if I toy with this any longer I'll give into making it longer.


End file.
